Page 1 of Rosetti Family New York
Wicked Lies
The Rosetti Family
Pia Sinclair
1
Eleanor
In a house as large as this, whispers are louder than words. They slip under doors, slip through walls, slip through me and Juliet as we listen in the dark hallway.
My father’s voice is cold and controlled, as always. The second voice I don’t recognize. It’s slower and sharper. The words are too mumbled to catch. But I know who it belongs to: Domenico Rosetti.
Juliet clutches my hand as I hold my breath. A terrible curiosity keeps us frozen to the spot. Even in the dim light, I can see the strain on my sister’s face. I pull her closer, tucking us into the shadows. My gold ring presses into my palm, and I twist it with my thumb. If we’re caught, our father won’t forgive us. Richard Price doesn’t believe in forgiveness. He believes in power, in control, in breaking anything that gets in his way. He doesn't recognize love, only alliances.
“It sounds serious,” Juliet whispers.
“It always is with him.” My voice is as soft as hers. We can’t let him catch us listening in.
We stay like that for long minutes. The chill of the marble floor seeps into my bones. The high ceiling and empty corridors swallow their voices, making them impossible to hear.
“I think it’s safe to get a little closer,” I say.
Juliet hesitates. “Do you really want to?”
I don’t want to, but I have to. I nod, pulling her to her feet. “If we don’t know what he’s planning, how can we stop it?”
We move toward the crack of light spilling from under his study door. We’ve been shut out of his world since we were old enough to want to be in it. It’s how he operates. Ruthless efficiency. A daughter’s love doesn’t stand a chance. We huddle closer, as near as I dare, and listen.
“Rosetti is dangerous,” Juliet murmurs.
She’s right, but father is worse. At least the Rosettis are open about what they are.
Father’s words rise above the others, hard and smooth and perfect. “—no finer distribution network in the city.”
I can picture the scene perfectly in my mind: Father behind the desk, elegant and poised, wearing the expensive suits and jewelry that speak to the wealth he is obsessed with, his face impassive.
The other voice, Rosetti’s, is careful and low. “No finer diamonds.”
Rosettis and diamonds. I’m sure I’ve misheard. I glance at Juliet, who’s as bewildered as I am. Maybe the gem business has taken a turn I didn’t see coming. My breath hitches.
Father doesn’t pause long enough to breathe. “We’ll provide your family access to product beyond what you’d be able to procure. Unique pieces. You won’t be disappointed.”
The conversation chills me, but not as much as the man meeting with father. Domenico Rosetti, the heir to New York’s most notorious crime family. If he’s here, it’s bad for everyone involved.
Father has never cared who he hurts to get what he wants. Juliet trembles beside me, and I squeeze her hand. She’s soft, too soft for a world like this. I’ve tried to shield her, but with a man like Richard Price for a father, shielding doesn’t get you very far.
“What are you thinking?” Domenico asks.
It’s a loaded question, but Father loads it even more. “I’m thinking that the surest way to merge two families is through marriage.”
My body goes stiff, frozen as I listen to the indecent offer hanging in the air. Juliet’s sharp inhale cuts through the quiet. She pulls me away from the door, her eyes wide with fear. She looks like she might bolt. I hold fast. Every inch of her is tense and ready to run. She doesn’t have to say it. Rosetti is dangerous. Marriage to the family would be a disaster.
Father and I could have been a powerful team. I've trained my whole life to run a gem business, but he treats me just like every other woman, imperfect and easily discarded. Anger rises in my chest, hot and sharp, but if we’re going to get out of this unscathed, I need to know the details. How, when, where? Most importantly, who?
I turn back to the door, straining to catch every word.
Domenico’s voice is calm, almost amused. “You think one of my brothers would want to marry into the Price family?”
